


The Sword and The Shadow

by Depressed_Ferret



Series: She-Ra 40,000 [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), Warhammer 40.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27320701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressed_Ferret/pseuds/Depressed_Ferret
Summary: A prelude of what's to come, and a sort of prequel to a larger series I have planned.
Series: She-Ra 40,000 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994575
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	The Sword and The Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> So! Been really busy this past year, and I'm hoping this will actually help me try writing again.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

The drip of some unknown fluid against the hard, ancient cobbled flooring was a constant, near maddening in its effect on the minds of those who crept through the decrepit halls.

Five individuals moved through the ancient, dilapidated structure: four in air-tight, grey fatigues with black plasteel carapace armor over top, the golden Aquilla of the Imperium proudly on display. The group consisted of four men, each nearly identical save their weapons of choice.

Each could feel their nerves growing more and more frayed with each audible drip through the corridor, though none gave any sign of weakness. Not out of any sense of devotion (to the Emperor or their training), but out of sheer fear for their final member.

She was tall with a wiry build that seemed almost skeletal, adding to her already threatening appearance with how the shadows seem to curl around her robed form. Her mask was a cold, featureless thing painted in a rich sanguine, accented in a midnight black and ornamented in fine lines of golden filigree.

A sudden beeping had the group stop, the troopers with their weapons raised and the woman stood, seemingly uninterested.

“Lady Weaver,” the nearest trooper said, hands gripping his autogun tight, “Auspex readings show we’re getting closer to the target.”

The woman, Lady Weaver, gave the faintest tilt of her head, “What direction?” she asked, her dark voice having an almost smoky drawl, neutral save for the promise of pain it held.

The man swallowed, “Directly to our left-”

Without hesitation Lady Weaver raised a gloved hand, augmetic talons cutting through the air in a quick motion before a blast of psychic might turned the stone and steel walls to glass and slag.

The man before her hadn’t the chance to even scream in terror before his evaporation.

Not waiting for her retinue, Lady Weaver levitated through the burning hole and stopped dead, stuck in awe at the sight before her.

A vast chamber stretched before her, the walls made from ceremite and decorated in golden patterns and ornamented furnishings. Hulking, titanic machinery lined the high ceiling, somehow preserved in this ancient Space Hulk.

A sneer drew at her lips from beneath her mask.

“Such a Holy place,” she thought, “Defiled by the Warp.”

The sneer was soon replaced with a smug smile. She has finally found her prize, why ruin it with thoughts of the Arch-Enemy?

Lady Weaver willed her psychic powers to gently drop her to the floor, where she paced across the vast stretch of this magnificent chamber.

Over seventy years she searched for this place, and finally it has been found; over seventy years since she had first learned of the weapon hidden in the deepest, most secluded parts of the void. Oh how the thought of this moment fills her heart with righteous jubilation! Ancient records spoke of a secret weapon hidden before the Great Crusade, one supposedly created by the Emperor himself. Such a boon to the Imperium could not simply be left for some scavenger or pirate to plunder!

Her colleagues called her mad. Claimed she was a fool chasing tall tales children whispered in the Schola.

Oh how she longed to show them their error, once she uses the weapon to destroy the enemies of Man-

There!

At the farthest end of the wall lied a massive casket, held upright against the wall by a series of hundreds of wires, cables and tubes; beside it rested a cogitator terminal.

Weaver’s psychic powers once again urged her forward, forcing her to reach the ancient machinery at breakneck speeds as she urgently hammered away at the controls.

Pssss….!

The casket hissed, ancient cabling disconnecting and hot steam escaping.

Yes!

Servos that were inactive for untold millenia hiss to life, forcing the casket door to force itself upwards.

“Yes!”

A secondary protective casing sunk down to the floor, ceremite gears slowly lowering the reinforced plate.

“Yes! Finally, my search is complete! I have found the Emperor’s secret weapon!” she cackled, a cruel thing that twisted the shadows in her mad glee.

The casket was opened, and the weapon was revealed: A massive blade, too huge for even the tallest of Astartes, with a gilded hilt that bore a two-faced eagle’s head, the faces turned in line with the blade’s edges. In the center, above the hilt and embedded within the guard was a gorgeous cerulean gem that pulsed with power. The blade, white as bone, had a wide fuller going down the length with small, almost impossibly faint lettering even Weaver could not clearly make out. Such a glorious blade, made by the Emperor Himself, was sure to have unimaginable powers!

With a gentle touch she felt the blade-

-And felt the power within fizzle out.

She blinked.

No, she despaired, No no no no NO!!! This cannot be!

She focussed, willing every ounce of psychic energy within herself, and channelled into the behemoth of a blade. Searching, hunting, begging to find just a scrap of power-

Anything!

Anything to prove she was right!

That her search had not been in vain!

That her life had not been wasted finding some forgotten hunk of gilded metal in the ass-end of Imperial space!

She felt nothing.

She screamed in Hellish fury.


End file.
